The Sniper

As a face appeared in the crosshairs, the DC sniper took aim at a whole world.

I grew up in Manhattan where walking on the crime-ridden streets meant a constant vigilance of the alleys and shadows. I then spent over 25 years in Israel, with the on and off periods of terror bombings and stabbings. And now I live in "safe" suburban Washington where one sniper had gripped our lives with fear. Compared to the other frightening situations I've lived in, you'd think this kind of terror would have been somewhat "minor." In some ways, it has been the most terrifying of them all.

A single shot rings out, one person collapses to the ground, and the entire DC area is frozen with fear and horror. Yet, cold logic finds it hard to identify the factor that maked these attacks so traumatic when we are surrounded by so much tragedy and devastation.

One bombing kills more people than all the sniper's forays put together.

For starters, car accidents claim many more lives on any day. Secondly, the world abounds with wars and killings galore. One bombing kills more people than all the sniper's forays put together. Yet for some reason, the emotional impact of seeing a picture of the latest victim and reading about his or her life affected us more profoundly. And it's not only because it's hitting closer to home. People who live nowhere near the Washington area also felt this acute reaction.

Why?

The Jewish sages give us a profound insight to understand this phenomenon. All of the creatures created in Genesis are described in plural, i.e. God created animals, cattle, etc. Yet only man is created alone, even without his spouse. Why was man created alone? To teach us that he who saves one person is as if he saved an entire world.

At first glance this rabbinic statement seems to merely state that killing one person is “numerically” equivalent to killing a world full of people -- as if killing a single person is quantitatively multiplied by all the generations to come -- just as all of humanity descended from Adam.

This faulty explanation conveys the feeling that human life can be measured and multiplied on a calculator. The sages must mean something deeper.

In describing man as being created alone, the rabbis are pointing out the unique quality of a human being. They are in effect telling us: Look at the world of humans around us -- the intelligence, the creativity, the kindness, the courage, and the sacrifice. These are not different strains of people; rather each person contains all of these attributes. If the whole world descended from one person, then he must have had all these characteristics and talents. And each of us as well is the sum total of all of his descendants. Any talent or attribute that surfaces later is perforce included in the predecessor. Therefore, killing a person is not the mere destruction of one cog in a 6-billion-piece machine, but the destruction of an entire microcosmic world.

UNQUANTIFIABLE HUMANITY

Much has been said about numbers numbing our minds. “One killing is a tragedy; a thousand deaths is a statistic.” This expresses the very real psychological inability to cope emotionally with an overwhelming tragedy. The real issue, however, is that the minute we add two people together, we have misdefined the human being. Humans are entire universes on their own, and cannot be quantified.

There is an extraordinary comment of the Ibn Ezra, a 12th century classic commentary on the Bible. He describes the difference in Hebrew between a proper noun and a common noun. A common noun can take on a suffix denoting possessiveness (i.e. Jim's car), or the plural (cars), or the definite article (i.e. the car).

A proper noun, however, cannot do any of the above in Hebrew. If, for instance, I have three boys named Abraham in my class, I cannot state in Hebrew, “I have three Abrahams in my class.” This, explains the Ibn Ezra, is because objects are part of a group and as such the relationship may be demonstrated in any of the above ways. But the name of a person (i.e. a proper noun) is singular. It is a world unto its own and does not define itself as part of the group.

Imagine the DC sniper holding up the rifle and a face appearing in the crosshairs, swimming into sharp focus. If we were standing behind him peering into the rifle's sight, what would we see? A single person?

He isn't just killing a single member of the human race -- he is killing a world.

No. We would see a wife whose husband is anxiously waiting to share dinner with her. We would see the mother of a child who is waiting to tell her how well he did on his quiz, and another child who needs help with his math homework. We would see a woman who is going to call her elderly mother to see how her new medicine is affecting her. A woman who finished at work that day a report that satisfied her boss. A woman who had a few rough words with a jealous co-worker and was looking forward to going back and patching up their relationship. We would see a woman who only yesterday received an invitation to her best friend's wedding and was fretting about what to wear.

And then a shot rings out. He isn't just killing a single member of the human race -- he is killing a world. An entire universe of love and expectation, ambition and dreams, cares and worries, happiness and disappointments. This is what the sages meant when they spoke of a person being an “entire world.”

When a bomb explodes anonymously in a crowd, we obfuscate the individuality of those killed by both the numbers involved and the haphazard manner of the bombing. The shooting of the sniper most sharply delineates the individuality of each victim. They are killed one by one with the killer intensely focusing in on the victim. It is a murder directly aimed at the most elevated and human of our characteristics: our individuality. And it is in our individuality that we most clearly appreciate that each person is a universe unto himself.

There is one more lesson I'd like to share. Our sages equate humiliation of a person to murder, for “the blood is drained from his face and he becomes pale,” which is analogous to murder. When we have another person in our crosshairs, and we are about to unleash a cruel remark or a devastating criticism, do we pause to think about the victim? Stop for a moment to realize that the person we are about to emotionally crush and destroy is a person with dreams and hopes, love and expectation, a complete universe. Let us begin looking at people with that attitude and we will stop destroying worlds.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 6

(6)
Shira Levin,
November 3, 2002 12:00 AM

One person is a whole world and is involved with others

All of us are impacted by an act of
terror whether we knew the person killed
or not. For we are all linked by our
being human.

(5)
Shani Leser,
October 28, 2002 12:00 AM

Hundreds of Jews killed by terrorists are not anonymous!

Your comment that "When a bomb explodes anonymously in a crowd, we obfuscate the individuality of those killed" caused me great sorrow. Hear in Israel, we read about each of the people who is killed, and each of them is a whole world destroyed. Many of them are our friends, or friends of our children who have been to funeral after funeral. Each one is an irreplaceable part of the Jewish people.

(4)
Rosalynne Sommer,
October 25, 2002 12:00 AM

All of this is refreshing!

I live around the area where all of these people were killed. It scared me so much! Even when he said the children are safe that scared me. Seeing these people just go around with a gun and shooting innocent people. That have family, friends and ambitions that they are killing people off.
This was a beautiful article.

(3)
Lito,
October 24, 2002 12:00 AM

There's a psycopath running around my universe

"(...)standing behind him (the sniper) peering into the rifle's sight, what would we see? A single person?". No doubt, a thought-provoking article. How can I wipe this psycopath out of my universe? Shalom

(2)
Anonymous,
October 23, 2002 12:00 AM

putting it into perspective

I hope R. Lopiansky will consider submitting this excellent piece to the Washington Post, so that a wider audience, both Jewish and gentile, will benefit from his insights.
I, too, have lived in Israel, where I was constantly besieged by concerned family members in the US that I come "home" to the US where it is "safe." We did eventually return to the US, though not for reasons of "security." Ironically, I now send my daughter to a Jewish high school only blocks from two of the sniper attacks in Silver Spring, Maryland, and once again I am besieged by these same relatives to take her out of school and go somewhere "safer." While we of course can't rely on miracles and need to look both ways while crossing the street, beyond measures of common sense we cannot live in fear and paranoia, whether it's in Israel or the US. We must remember that HaShem is with us, always, and all's we can do is make it our daily priority in life to behave in a way that will best serve HaShem. Only then will we be truly "secure."

(1)
Dep. Donald Berry, LASD (Ret.),
October 23, 2002 12:00 AM

The DC Area Shooter Doesn't Deserve the Title, "Sniper"

Shalom R. Lopiansky,

Your article about the murdering shooter in the DC area is very insightful as to why the murder of a solitary individual can sometimes feel worse to us than when an entire group of people are murdered together.

However, as a former member of the law enforcement community, I would like to suggest that this DC area shooter/murderer, does not deserve the title, or designation, "sniper", because a sniper is either employed by the military, or Law Enforcement, for the expressed purpose of saving lives by eliminating a hostile threat.

An excellent article about this can be found at,

www.snipercentral.com/statement.htm.

Unfortunately, there are those within law enforcement, who use the term "sniper" loosely, i.e., misapply it to criminals who murder the innocent; from a distance; one at a time, with a firearm.

The author of the above mentioned article, a former military sniper, makes an excellent case for the distinction between a "sniper", and a muderering shooter who uses a firearm/weapon to kill the innocent.

I’m wondering what happened to the House of David. After the end of the Kingdom of Judah was there any memory what happened to King David’s descendants? Is there any family today which can trace its lineage to David – and whom the Messiah might descend from?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Thank you for your good question. There is no question that King David’s descendants are alive today. God promised David through Nathan the Prophet that the monarchy would never depart from his family (II Samuel 7:16). The prophets likewise foretell the ultimate coming of the Messiah, descendant of David, the “branch which will extend from the trunk of Jesse,” who will restore the Davidic dynasty and Israel’s sovereignty (Isaiah 11:1, see also Jeremiah 33:15, Ezekiel 37:25).

King David’s initial dynasty came to an end with the destruction of the First Temple and the Babylonian Exile. In an earlier expulsion King Jehoiachin was exiled by Nebuchadnezzar, together with his family and several thousand of the Torah scholars and higher classes (II Kings 24:14-16). Eleven years later the Temple was destroyed. The final king of Judah, Jehoiachin’s uncle Zedekiah, was too exiled to Babylonia. He was blinded and his children were executed (II Kings 25:7).

However, Jehoiachin and his descendants did survive in exile. Babylonian cuneiform records actually attest to Jehoiachin and his family receiving food rations from the government. I Chronicles 3:17:24 likewise lists several generations of his descendants (either 9 or 15 generations, depending on the precise interpretation of the verses), which would have extended well into the Second Temple era. (One was the notable Zerubbabel, grandson of Jehoiachin, who was one of the leaders of the return to Zion and the construction the Second Temple.)

In Babylonia, the leader of the Jewish community was known as the Reish Galuta (Aramaic for “head of the exile,” called the Exilarch in English). This was a hereditary position recognized by the Babylonian government. Its bearer was generally quite wealthy and powerful, well-connected to the government and wielding much authority over Babylonian Jewry.

According to Jewish tradition, the Exilarch was a direct descendant of Jehoiachin. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 5a) understands Genesis 49:10 – Jacob’s blessing to Judah that “the staff would not be removed from Judah” – as a reference to the Exilarchs in Babylonia, “who would chastise Israel with the staff,” i.e., who exercised temporal authority over the Jewish community. It stands to reason that these descendants of Judah were descendants of David’s house, who would have naturally been the leaders of the Babylonian community, in fulfillment of God’s promise to David that authority would always rest in his descendants.

There is also a chronological work, Seder Olam Zutta (an anonymous text from the early Middle Ages), which lists 39 generations of Exilarchs beginning with Jehoiachin. One of the commentators to Chronicles, the Vilna Gaon, states that the first one was Elionai of I Chronicles 3:23.

The position of Exilarch lasted for many centuries. The Reish Galuta is mentioned quite often in the Talmud. As can be expected, some were quite learned themselves, some deferred to the rabbis for religious matters, while some, especially in the later years, fought them and their authority tooth and nail.

Exilarchs existed well into the Middle Ages, throughout the period of the early medieval scholars known as the Gaonim. The last ones known to history was Hezekiah, who was killed in 1040 by the Babylonian authorities, although he was believed to have had sons who escaped to Iberia. There are likewise later historical references to descendants of the Exilarchs, especially in northern Spain (Catelonia) and southern France (Provence).

Beyond that, there is no concrete evidence as to the whereabouts of King David’s descendants. Supposedly, the great French medieval sage Rashi (R. Shlomo Yitzchaki) traced his lineage to King David, although on a maternal line. (In addition, Rashi himself had only daughters.) The same is said of Rabbi Yehuda Loewe of Prague (the Maharal). Since Ashkenazi Jews are so interrelated, this is a tradition, however dubious today, shared by many Ashkenazi Jews.

In any event, we do not need be concerned today how the Messiah son of David will be identified. He will be a prophet, second only to Moses. God Himself will select him and appoint him to his task. And he himself, with his Divine inspiration, will resolve all other matters of Jewish lineage (Maimonides Hilchot Melachim 12:3).

Yahrtzeit of Kalonymus Z. Wissotzky, a famous Russian Jewish philanthropist who died in 1904. Wissotzky once owned the tea concession for the Czar's entire military operation. Since the Czar's soldiers numbered in the millions and tea drinking was a daily Russian custom, this concession made Wissotzky very rich. One day, Wissotzky was approached by the World Zionist Organization to begin a tea business in Israel. He laughed at this preposterous idea: the market was small, the Turkish bureaucracy was strict, and tea leaves from India were too costly to import. Jewish leaders persisted, and Wissotzky started a small tea company in Israel. After his death, the tea company passed to his heirs. Then in 1917, the communists swept to power in Russia, seizing all of the Wissotzky company's assets. The only business left in their possession was the small tea company in Israel. The family fled Russia, built the Israeli business, and today Wissotzky is a leading brand of tea in Israel, with exports to countries worldwide -- including Russia.

Building by youth may be destructive, while when elders dismantle, it is constructive (Nedarim 40a).

It seems paradoxical, but it is true. We make the most important decisions of our lives when we are young and inexperienced, and our maximum wisdom comes at an age when our lives are essentially behind us, and no decisions of great moment remain to be made.

While the solution to this mystery eludes us, the facts are evident, and we would be wise to adapt to them. When we are young and inexperienced, we can ask our elders for their opinion and then benefit from their wisdom. When their advice does not coincide with what we think is best, we would do ourselves a great service if we deferred to their counsel.

It may not be popular to champion this concept. Although we have emerged from the era of the `60s, when accepting the opinion of anyone over thirty was anathema, the attitude of dismissing older people as antiquated and obsolete has-beens who lack the omniscience of computerized intelligence still lingers on.

Those who refuse to learn from the mistakes of the past are doomed to repeat them. We would do well to swallow our youthful pride and benefit from the teachings of the school of experience.

Today I shall...

seek advice from my elders and give more serious consideration to deferring to their advice when it conflicts with my desires.

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